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Driving Mr. Moss: Stirling returns to Goodwood, and lets me drive

October 11, 1998

Talk about an embarrassment of riches. Last month, the famous Goodwood racetrack on the south coast of England was to reopen for competition after 32 years, and I had the offer of two drives. Trouble was, they were in the same race. I could share Pink Floyd drummer Nick Mason's Ferrari GTO in the one-hour, two-driver RAC TT celebration, or I could share a Ferrari 250SWB GT with Stirling Moss. Decisions, decisions...

The GTO I knew well. Nick and I have just written a book about this and the rest of his collection, and last time we drove together we won. The SWB I didn't know, other than that it was the very car that took victory in the 1961 TT at the very same place, driven by one S. Moss. I also knew that it had not been raced since 1966. Maintained well and used regularly, but not raced. I knew our opposition had been highly developed in the meantime-man's desire to win overcoming any respect for originality-and would feature some talented occupants. Regular winners Frank Sytner and Gary Pearson were to be joined by Grand Prix drivers Damon Hill, Stefan Johansson and Martin Brundle, while Americans Danny Sullivan, Bob Bondurant and Phil Hill would add an international flavor.

I had to go with Moss, even if it was just to say I had done it. In the week or so between invitation and event, I dwelt on the fact that Stirling won his first race before I was born. After that first event-at Goodwood in 1948-he rapidly developed into one of the greatest drivers the world has seen. Who knows what he might have achieved had his career not been cut short in 1962 by that near-fatal accident, here at the same track where he began his career.

But I still wasn't prepared for the respect and affection that the public reserves for the man. He was 69 the day before. The sea of autograph hunters was mostly too young to have seen him race, yet most had copies of his book ready for a signature. He looks much the same as he always did. A little thicker round the middle perhaps, but that smooth tanned head and right-angled ears are as distinctive as they were in 1962. He moves just as quickly too, knows exactly what he wants, makes statements rather than engages in discussion, and his eyes are bright and clear. Being with Moss was an education about the sort of attributes that world beaters need, and an indication that once you have these qualities, they never leave you.

I learned, too, the technique necessary to hustle a truly original car round a fast flowing track, a knack pioneered by Moss and his contemporaries, and one he has described as ``fast and early.'' You brake early, carry too much speed into the corner, then balance the inevitable slide with more power rather than less. It is wonderfully indulgent and a thrill unknown to today's drivers, who have the dubious benefit of modern tires and stiff suspension.

We finished 11th out of the 30 starters and Stirling found just enough time between appointments for a word of approval. ``Thanks for your efforts, ol' boy,'' he said in that clipped, no-nonsense upper-class English way of his. ``Considering the car's not been kept on racing food over the years, I think we did pretty well.''

I would give almost anything to know that I'll be saying the same thing to some youngster in 20 years time... even if no one asks for my autograph. At the Limit, by Nick Mason and Mark Hales, is available from Motorbooks International for $39.95. Phone (800) 458-0454.